


Forever and Always

by lcvelydeacon



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Drama, F/M, Popularity, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lcvelydeacon/pseuds/lcvelydeacon
Summary: "I'm sorry, John." I whimper, desperate for him to believe me. But he glares hard, a fiery look glazing his usually inviting grey eyes."Sorry you did it? Or sorry you got caught?" He inquires, each word dripping with venom. And I can't answer - I'm at a loss for words. "Yeah, that's what I thought." John growls before storming off, walking out of my life like nothing.And instead, I'm the one left with the broken heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi - i'm lovelydeacon from instagram and wattpad (unfortunately someone took that username here), and i figured i'd give another website a shot. writing is something i'm extremely passionate about, and i hope you like what i have to post :')
> 
> as well, i'm not all that familiar with this website - my apologies if there are a bit of formatting errors, i'm hoping i'll get the hang of this website quickly!

**22 April 1967**

_luna's p.o.v._

Roger Taylor comes from a family of wealth, earning their small household of four the title of 'richest in Oadby'. His father owns Oadby's largest factory, employing most residents in the town of Leicester and making the small family well known around town - making Roger one of the more popular students at school, a small and elite private school of nothing more than 500 students, accepting only the best of the best.

His family's riches along with his charming looks garners a lot of attention from the ladies, most of whom hope to score a night alone with nothing more than his undivided attention. And he's no stranger to the attention the girls shower him with, soaking up each look he snags and loving every single moment of it.

But Roger has more than looks and wealth going for him. His increased athletic ability easily makes him one of the best on the football team, tying first with Freddie Bulsara and Brian May, and cementing best friend status among the three, making them, along with myself – a childhood friend of Brian's, one of the most popular cliques in the entire school.

Roger's strong urge to party helps our group maintain our high status. His insatiable appetite for the thrill each outing brings makes him the party king, bringing luck to each girl that longs to dance under the sheets with the blue-eyed dreamboat. But Brian and Freddie aren't unfamiliar with the feeling of girls lusting after them. Freddie's desire for sex easily matches Roger's, and while Brian remains a little more reserved than our best friends, I've seen him let loose – surprising all three of us, even putting Roger and Freddie to shame a couple times.

Bringing me to where I am now...

Freddie waves his hand before my face, catching my attention. I'm brought back to reality, surrounded in a crowd of teens. It's 9:45 on a Saturday night, and Roger's party is alive and roaring. Music is blasting from the small speakers scattered around the room, and there isn't a single face in the crowd that hasn't had a drop of alcohol. But I expect nothing less, and to those in attendance, it's nothing more than a typical Saturday night.

I glance at him with a soft sigh. Freddie starts to smirk, dropping his hand, taking a sip of whatever alcohol is held within his glass. "Is something wrong, My Dear?" He teases. I hesitate before settling with a simple shake of my head, but he stares back as if he doesn't believe a word I say. "Y'know, a quick shag could take the edge off." Freddie mutters out the suggestion, diverting his attention and raising his glass to his lips once more, acting as if he hadn't said it.

Although I so very clearly heard it.

"Freddie, no," I growl, my jaw tightening over the mere thought – reaching the point where I'm tired of listening to the trio pester me about it. "I've told you so many times that I don't want meaningless sex." And he should know that my answer isn't changing.

"But have you ever thought that you might need it?" He offers. Freddie raises an eyebrow, lowering his glass. He awaits my answer, but I can see the wheels turning in his head. "Do you even like sex?" Freddie inquires, and I have to think it over – I'm not entirely sure. I miss the intimacy between my ex-boyfriend and me, but I don't know if I miss the physical act of it. I shrug my shoulders. "You're going to glue your legs shut until someone else comes along to take Aaron's place, aren't you?" I nod my head. "Find someone here!" But I disagree in an instant. "Darling, it's been almost seven months. I think it's time to move on, don't you?"

I know he's right – Aaron_had_cheated on me, and I know damn well I deserve better than that, that I deserve to be treated like a human, treated with my feelings in mind. I'd love to have a boyfriend who showers me with love, respect, and makes it clear he really cares – like I had with my ex before he stomped on my heart.

"But I don't know anyone who wants me," I argue lamely. "And I don't want to look for love. I want it to find me, like in the movies." Freddie remains silent for a moment. I find myself starting to smile, thinking I've finally gotten through to him. But then he bursts out into a fit of laughter.

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that, Luna."

<<<<~>>>>

Our extended group gathers around a small coffee table; alcohol beginning to take a sort of effect without overpowering our senses – surely whatever's about to go down will be remembered in the morning. Roger's parties are never complete without a childish game of truth or dare, but tonight, it's different – tonight, the group is merely shit talking fellow classmates, much to everyone's delight.

"... I really fucking hate Megan, though," Daisy gripes, and everyone leans forward, eager to hear what has happened between the once inseparable best friends. "I caught her talking to_my_boyfriend. I called her out on it, told her to stop, and Megan actually had the nerve to call me desperate and an attention seeker." Daisy finishes with a groan. "I don't even know what that has to do with anything! But she's a whore. I can't even tell you how many guys she's slept with in our year." Roger and Brian exchange smirks, both proud of having slept with her – proud of themselves for making the nonexistent list. "But I hope someone breaks her heart." Freddie cuts in with a groan.

"Oh, there are so many people I'd love to see their heart broken," Freddie confesses, stretching out on the couch. I sit squished between him and Brian, hoping and praying neither of them spill their drinks on me. "But there's one that really deserves it. It's John Deacon. I_hate_that little fucker." John Deacon – a quiet one with high intelligence. He's by no means popular or athletic, making Freddie's hatred a little hard to understand, a one-side hatred only Freddie knows the reason for.

"Me too," another athlete pipes up. "Lil fucker is a walking target for bullies, though, with his stupid haircut and the fact that he doesn't have friends." Our entire group laughs, nodding and agreeing with his statement. But I can't – I've never paid attention to John.

"More of a reason someone should break his heart," Freddie grumbles. "He deserves to have his happiness ripped away from him." Brian looks towards me, a smirk plastered to his thin face, but I avoid his gaze, pretending he doesn't exist. But it's still not enough to save me.

"Lucky for us, Fred, I have the perfect girl for the occasion," he begins. "Luna, Love, would you like to do us a favor?" Brian inquires sweetly, but, still refusing to make eye contact, I shake my head rapidly. "Oh, why not?" He pouts. "It'll be a lot of fun." But I continue to decline his not-so-generous offer.

"He'd never be attracted to someone like me." I attempt to reason, but my friends – and our entire group, for that matter – crack up laughing in response.

"Nice try, Princess," Roger smirks. "Kid stares at you the entire time in science, blushes like crazy when you even look in his general direction. I refuse to believe for one minute that he doesn't have the hots for you."

"Same in maths." Freddie pipes.

"Doubt he does." I grumble.

"Roger's right, Luna," Brian speaks up. "And I've even heard he has a huge crush on you."

"I don't want to," I settle with a grumble. I want nothing to do with the kid – from what I have seen, he seems weird, incredibly weird, and there's probably a reason he doesn't have any friends. "He seems strange." I whine. "What if there's a reason he doesn't have friends? And why do I have to do this? Why can't it be Daisy?" But she's quick to shake her head.

"Luna," Roger speaks up, catching my attention. "John likes you – not Daisy. But if you break his heart for us, I'll buy you that expensive necklace you've been wanting." I swallow hard – his offer tempting. I've only been struggling to save up for the last couple of years, but each time I get relatively close to my goal, something_always_happens. Freddie starts to smirk, knowing I'm starting to cave under Roger's offer. "All you have to do is break his heart, and don't worry, Doll. He'll get over it eventually."

"I hate you," I mutter. "But I'll do it. I really love that necklace, and at the rate I'm going, it's never going to be mine." Freddie, Brian, and Roger exchange excited glances, thrilled with the outcome of the situation.

"We're about to have the time of our life with him."

<<<<~>>>>

**24 April 1967**

John Deacon wears his hair short – incredibly short. He's one of the few who hasn't fallen victim to the long hair craze taking over the school. I'm indifferent but amazed. And he sits alone – towards the front of the class, a notebook and a few pens and pencils sit on his desk.

I can't believe what I'm getting myself in to.

I glance towards my friend, seated in the back of the room, engaged in his own conversation while simultaneously watching each move I make. I bite my bottom lip. Freddie urges me forward with a nod of his head. I stifle a sigh but approach him.

He doesn't acknowledge my presence – whether it's because he's not used to being spoken to in the class or not, I'm unsure. But I claim the seat beside him. "Hi, John," I greet, dropping my books onto the desktop. He startles under my voice. "Is this seat taken?" He shakes his head but doesn't utter a single word.

And I didn't realize how great my challenge is going to be until now.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" John shakes his head, his cheeks flush red, and he looks away, embarrassed.

"No, you're fine," he mutters, although it doesn't sound convincing. "I'm just awkward. And shy. I can't help it. I'm sorry." I giggle softly. He's cute, really cute – more often than not, awkward nature radiates to those around, making it uncomfortable for everyone, but not with him.

It makes him cute.

"It's fine. It's cute, really. I like awkward." His cheeks sport a darker shade of red. I can see he's unable to meet my gaze, messing with a piece of paper to occupy his hands and give him something to do.

"And girls don't really look at me," John explains. I rest my chin in my hand, leaning in. I don't mean to intimidate him, but with his nervous personality, it's inevitable. "Especially not cute girls." He mutters out the last part, and I don't think I was supposed to hear it.

But I did – my cheeks warm up as the four little words are set on repeat.

And it's nothing I would've ever expected from Aaron.

<<<<~>>>>

_john's p.o.v._

Nigel leans against a row of lockers, his books held close to his chest. "It's about damn time," he grumbles. But I refuse to let his mood bring me down – I'm on cloud nine. Nigel proceeds with his rant from this morning, ranting about a girl in history that frequently gives his problems – but I'm not paying attention. I'm still stuck on_her_. And when he realizes my mind is elsewhere, he sighs. "John, you're not even listening."

"Sorry," I grumble. "I'm not really thinking straight."

"Talk to me."

I sigh softly, wanting to spill to my best friend but holding back for the fear of getting ahead of myself, for the fear of dreaming of what could happen between us only to be let down – she's popular, I'm not, why would she want someone like me? "I was sitting in class, minding my own business, and out of nowhere, Luna comes over and sits next to me," I explain. "I thought her friends were gone, but then she starts talking to me, telling me I'm cute. And dear God, Nigel, it was great." But he doesn't match my excitement – something seems off.

"Suspicious," Nigel mutters. "I don't trust her." I throw him a glare. "John, she's popular, we're not. She's never acknowledged you before. Doesn't it raise red flags at all?" I think it over, settling with a shrug of my shoulders, not at all concerned.

"No," I answer. "She was really friendly with me, calling me cute and stuff. It didn't seem like she'd do something mean and horrible, maybe she likes me?" Nigel shrugs his shoulders. He sighs loudly, shaking his head.

"I have no idea, but I don't think I trust her," he admits. "And I wish you didn't either, but you're fucking blinded by love." My cheeks flush red. But he's not wrong – for as long as I can remember, I've always found her cute, developing a bigger and bigger crush as time had passed.

But now this is a dream come true.

<<<<~>>>>

_luna's p.o.v._

I loiter outside of the classroom, standing across the hall from John and his friend, situated down from the door and their position. Neither are paying attention to me, instead wrapped up in their own conversation. And I wait alone for my best friend.

And then he appears, acting out and alerting the entire hallway of his presence whether they care or not – but I expect nothing less from him. Freddie is one of the loudest people I've ever met.

He spots me, his entire face lighting up before his lips curl into a smirk. "I saw him soaking up the attention," Freddie comments. "Have you snagged a date with him, Darling?" I gasp, shaking my head rapidly.

"Freddie, I've only talked to him once!" I squeal, quickly clasping a hand over my mouth, but he laughs hard over the noises. And as we wander throughout the halls, gathering lots of outside attention along with some dirty glares, Freddie and I continue laughing over that stupid noise.

"Ask him on a date anyway." Freddie insists, calming down from his giggling high. But I shake my head.

"If you want this to work, Freddie, you can't rush it," I sigh. "It'll be suspicious if I asked him out on a date when I don't know a thing about him." Freddie brushes it off with a wave of his hand, he makes a face and shakes his head.

"First dates are perfect for getting to know each other." He continues, but it's clears he's getting anxious to get his plan in motion, for Freddie, we're moving too slowly.

"Patience, Fred."

Freddie grumbles, mumbles something under his breath. I lift an eyebrow and glance over at him. he sighs loudly. "Patience is stupid." I laugh softly – expecting nothing less of him because when Freddie wants something, he wants it now.

Freddie doesn't like being kept waiting.

<<<<~>>>>

_john's p.o.v._

Mum throws me a look, warning me to not mess up her freshly cleaned table, a look I've learned to not take lightly when she's in the midst of cleaning. And as I pass my folders and books to the nearby bookshelf, Mum relaxes and proceeds to wash dishes. "Hi, Darling, how was school?"

I debate with myself over whether or not to disclose what happened with Luna earlier. I want to share the excitement with her – after listening to me mention her every so often for the last several years, it might be nice for her to hear our situation has improved slightly. And I need advice – Nigel's words from earlier are stuck on loop, and I'm still not sure what to think about it.

"I sat next to Luna in maths today," I answer nonchalantly. "Well, she sat next to me, and she was talking to me and stuff." Mum washes the soap from her hands, she wears a smile on her face, and I'm thrilled she's already reacting differently than my best friend had.

"Sounds like she might be developing a little crush on you, John." Mum speaks, and the mere thought causes my heart to skip a beat or two.

"Oh, I really hope so," I grin. "I really like her, and I'd love to take her out on a date or something. If it's alright with you." Mum laughs softly and nods her head.

"I don't see a problem with it as long as you two don't slip off to somewhere private," she throws me a look, and my cheeks turn bright red. I drop my gaze in embarrassment. "But I think you should wait a bit, get to know her a little more and make sure she does like you before stepping forward. I don't want you to get your heart broken."

"I won't," I insist. "She doesn't seem like the kind of girl to do that."

Because from the looks of it, she's not like the other popular ones.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems that i'm *extremely* unfamiliar with this website, it took me longer than i'd like to admit trying to figure out how to post this lol but here's the second chapter, i need to add more tags and such. BUT before this story continues, i want to point out that i'm an american who (when i had started writing this) had NO idea how the UK school system works; therefore, everything is heavily based on my personal experiences. but after some help from some wonderful Brits, i have a better understanding, so when you see something that isn't,, accurate. i know, as soon as i finish this story, i'm going to go through and heavily edit it all at once. thank you in advance for being understanding!
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy chapter two!

**16 May 1967**

_luna's p.o.v._

I never imagined I'd become as close to John Deacon as I've grown to be over the course of the last couple of weeks. But I suppose it was to be expected after sitting beside him in all of our classes on a daily basis. And I suppose I'm surprised at how well we mesh together, how well we get along that it caught me off guard when we started missing out on sleep to talk to one another.

I never imagined to enjoy his presence.

"... Should really go to bed," John murmurs. "But I don't want to. I think I like talking to you more." I giggle softly in response. With each passing day, John grows a little more comfortable with expressing his feelings towards me – and I don't mind, I find it sweet.

"Me too," I respond, and after spending so much time near him, I mean it. He's been accused of being boring in the past, but I can't see why – he's one of the most interesting people I've ever met. "But at least we'll see each other tomorrow." I remind him.

"True," John hums in response. "Have you started studying for the exams?"

"Nope," I confess. "Have you?"

"No, I haven't. I really should, though," John laughs, and I'm amazed – for as long as I can remember, he's been a model student, turning assignments in early, starting them as soon as we get them, even studying several weeks in advance to achieve the highest marks on all of our exams. "If you're not busy tomorrow, would you like to come over to study?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

<<<<~>>>>

**17 May 1967**

Freddie had been thrilled – he had been absolutely elated to learn that John had invited me over, feeding me idea after idea to push the plan even farther ahead. But I shot down each offer thrown my way, much to Freddie's dismay.

And after the final bell rings, I head for the front doors – ready to meet up with John.

"Hi," he greets, offering a wave and a smile. "I hope you don't mind that my sister is going to be home, and if you'd like, my mum said you're more than welcome to stick around for dinner. She can take you home later, if you need a ride." John pushes through the doors, stepping into the cool spring air and warm late May sun.

"I'll have to call my dad to see what's going on," John and I follow along the sidewalk, turning left. "How long does it take to get to your house?" I ask out of curiosity. John thinks it over for a brief moment before answering with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Probably about fifteen minutes, depending on how fast we walk," he grins. "I live on Hidcote, so it's not too far from here." I readjust my books, my mind wanders. "Would you like me to carry your books?" John offers. He extends his arms, holding his own books out, encouraging me to set mine on top. And I do so reluctantly.

"Thank you, John." I smile.

"Anything for you, Luna."

I follow alongside John, soaking up the rays of sun that have been hidden for so long. "I can't wait until summer holiday," I smile. "I can't wait to hang out with friends and not worry about school. It's going to be so nice." John nods his head, but he wears a bit of a frown on his face.

"Do you think we'll hang out over holiday?" He asks, in a voice so quiet I can barely hear him – it takes me a moment to process what he's said. And while I already know my answer, I hesitate a bit. Freddie, Brian, and Roger will force me to hang out with him, but is it being forced if I might want to?

"Of course we are," I smile. John relaxes, and his face lights up a bit. "I live right down the road from you, so I think we're going to see each other a lot over summer." I laugh, and my smile grows to a grin.

"Not complaining about that," John mutters. He takes another left, crossing the street, and leading us down the long and winding road that he lives on. "Mum always complains that I never leave the house." He chuckles.

"Dad always complains that I'm never home," I giggle. "I get bored, though. I'd rather be out with my friends, having fun, going to parties, stuff like that." John thinks it over, fixating his attention on the ground, watching his feet as we walk.

"I've never been to a party," he admits. "But I don't really have any friends, and the popular guys all hate me. I don't know why. I've never done anything to them." I swallow hard – that's exactly why I'm here, gaining his friendship and trust because Freddie and our entire clique hate him. I feel nauseous, my stomach churns, but I remain silent.

I don't want to hurt his feelings.

"John Deacon, I'm going to give you the best summer you'll ever have," I promise with a nod of my head. He glances towards me. John raises an eyebrow, silently encouraging me to continue on. "I'll take you to all of the parties, we'll do lots of fun stuff, it'll be great." He sighs softly.

"I don't know, Luna," he frowns. "It sounds nice, but I don't think I'll fit in much, I'll probably stuff myself in a corner and hide out there the entire time. And I don't think my mum would let me go. She doesn't want me around alcohol, she's afraid I'll drink. She doesn't really like me being around underage drinkers in general, though. Mum's a little strict." John emits a breathy laugh.

"My dad doesn't like me drinking either," I share. "I don't drink as much as my friends most of the time, but I still like having a bottle or a shot every now and then. Sometimes getting drunk is nice because you get to forget about your problems for a little bit, and I really need that at times." John remains silent, digesting my words.

<<<<~>>>>

_john's p.o.v._

I listen as she talks, dwelling on her words and thinking on how tempting the idea is – anything to numb the constant pain and forget the harsh reality my own classmates offer. "It sounds really nice," I whisper. "I'd give anything to forget the hell the bullies put me through." She looks towards me, frowning.

"You're bullied?" I nod my head.

"Have been for the longest time," I admit. "People like to target me because they don't like how I look or they think I'm an easy target, but sometimes, it's not even that. Sometimes, they like to point out how my dad has passed and use it to their advantage." My throat starts to ache, a painful lump forms in the back. But I refuse to cry – not in front of the girl of my dreams.

"Really?" She answers softly. I nod my head. Vivid memories pour back into my mind after years of successfully blocking them out, I feel sick all over again.

19 September 1963

I clutch my stuffed dog to my chest, protectively holding it so nothing harms it. It's show and tell, and I'm excited. Public speaking has been my biggest fear since I could talk, but today, that fear is hidden behind excitement.

I can hardly wait to show off my dog – the dog Mum had made from Dad's military uniform, the dog that allows me to hold another little piece of my dad close. And in the wake of the heartbreak from his passing, it's one of my favorite things in the entire world.

Students gather in lines outside the front doors. I don't see Nigel anywhere, leading me to stand on my own, ignoring my classmates, minding my own business. Until he walks up, a smirk plastered to his face. It's a daily occurrence he feels the need to harass me, but I refuse to let him damper my mood – I figure if I ignore him, he'll leave me be.

But I'm wrong – so wrong.

"Hi, John," Ron smirks. His voice sickly sweet. I swallow hard, tightening my grip on my homemade dog. "Is that a stuffed animal?" And reluctantly, I nod my head. "Did your dad make it for you?" Ron taunts. And then he begins to cackle. "Oh, wait, I forgot. You don't have a dad!"

It's still a touchy subject – it's been almost four months since his passing, and I still can't talk about it without breaking down, something Ron is aware of and uses to his advantage.

I can feel the tears spring to my eyes. I want to tell him off, tell him to go bother someone else, but I can't – the words get caught in my throat, and my bottom lip merely quivers instead. He continues laughing. "Give me the dog, Deacon," Ron commands, holding out his disgusting hand. But I draw the line there. I shake my head stubbornly. Ron, being used to how compliant I am, is taken off guard over my newfound confidence. But he's not going down without a fight, although I should expect nothing less of him. "I said, give me the dog, Deacon." He growls, thrusting a hand at my chest. I shake my head and continue to hold my ground, refusing to let him take this piece of my father from me.

Ron lunges for me, easily overpowering my petite frame. He rips the military dog from my hands and laughs over his little victory. "Give it back!" I scream, several other students look on, refusing to help for Ron intimidates them. "Don't hurt him! It was made from my dad's old uniform! Please, Ron, give it back!" I don't bother wiping the tears that race down my cheeks, but I feel pathetic. And I feel sick that Ron finds it all amusing, it's sickening that my suffering brings him so much happiness.

"Oh, does someone want his stuffed animal back?" I nod my head frantically. "Only little girls play with stuffed animals. Are you a little girl, Deacon? Do you want us to get you some dollies to go with it?" More tears pour down my cheeks. I reach out for the animal, but it's out of my reach. "Go fetch." He smirks before tossing the animal away, laughing harder when it lands in a mud puddle. "Oh, I think he's going to go cry to his daddy now..."

I ignore him, taking off for one of my most prized possessions. I pick him up, and not caring that he's covered in mud, I hug him to my chest, resting my cheek against his muddy head. "I'm sorry," I whimper. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

And as the bell rings for the start of school, I can't stop the tears from falling.

I stand before my house with her at my side. I don't remember arriving, but as I lead her to the front door, she takes my hand, giving me a gentle squeeze. "I can't wait to get out of this town," I sigh softly. "I can't wait to be another face in the crowd at university and to start over, where no one knows who you are. It'll be nice." I open the front door, pushing it in and allowing my guest to enter first.

"Have you thought of where you want to go for school?" I nod my head, following her in. Our screen door slams shut behind me, and after stepping out of the way, I close the big one. Luna stands to the side. She waits for instructions, but they come with a shrug of my shoulders and visual of me kicking my shoes off and pushing them near the shoe rack.

"Set them anywhere," I offer. "But Nigel and I are thinking about heading to Chelsea College down in London. It seems like a nice place, and my mum is scheduling a visit over the summer." I lead her down the hallway and into the dining room. "But I think it's going to be the one I choose." She takes a seat at the table, setting her folders onto the surface.

"I haven't really thought about where I want to go," she admits. "I feel like I want to go somewhere far away, to meet new people, but at the same time, I want to stick around for my brother." A smile plays onto her face. "He's four. And he's so precious. He loves spending time with me. He'll sit on my lap while I'm doing homework and do his best to help."

"Aw," I grin. "He sounds cute."

And after taking a seat beside her, we pull our review packets from within; Luna scoots a bit closer to me, my heart pounds against my chest. I haven't felt this happy in a long while.

<<<<~>>>>

_luna's p.o.v._

I feel hopeless, as John and I complete our review packets, he's breezing through each problem, on either page three of four, while I'm stuck on the back of the front page. I fear I'm going to fail the test.

But I'm too ashamed to ask him for help – we're supposed to be helping one another, but I don't want him to think I'm stupid.

Science isn't fun when you care more about art. And with that, I start doodling along the edge, in the blank space right alongside question five, sketching the first thing that comes to mind – the boy sitting next to me.

I reposition, needing a clear view of my unsuspecting participant. John works through his problems, he remains silent, so involved in his work, it's kind of cute. But either way, I'm not complaining, talking makes sketching profiles harder.

And although it's a small drawing, I work in as much detail as I possibly can.

"Have you gotten the answer to question twenty-three?" John asks after several moments of silence. I put the finish details on his profile, shaking my head in response. "How about the answer to nineteen?" Again, I shake my head.

"I got sidetracked after three." I admit, and John chortles softly.

"But we've been working on it for almost an hour, what have you been doing this whole time then?" I bite my bottom lip, chewing on it nervously, meeting his gaze. John wears a small smile on his face, and taking a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh, I reposition and sit beside him. John looks down at my paper, his eyes immediately catch sight of my drawing. "Is that me?" I nod my head.

"Yeah," I answer. "I didn't really know what I was doing, and I didn't want you to think I was stupid or something, so I decided to draw your profile instead. I like art more than I like science." I offer him a smile, but his gaze is stuck on the sketch.

"Luna, this is amazing," he breathes. "I didn't know you could draw so well." John takes the paper from my lap, getting a better look at the doodle. Before long, a grin stretches across his face. "How'd you get so good at this?"

"I used to paint with my mum," I begin to explain. "She was an artist, and that was how we bonded. I got bored with painting, so we started drawing. I found out it came naturally to me, so I continued. I spent several hours, locked away in my room, drawing whatever I could think of." I let out a breathy laugh, making small scribbles on my paper. "I want to be an artist." John nods his head.

"You'd do really well," he comments. "It's a tough profession, but your talent is incredible."

"I've made a little bit of money from it already. I spent months working on this drawing, and once it was done, my dad took it to the art gallery. His best friend works there, so they were able to put it on display in the 'locals' section. A woman really liked it and wanted to buy it. I made a hundred pounds, and she was really shocked to learn a fourteen-year-old girl was the artist." John laughs.

"I don't really know what I want to do," John shares. "I was thinking electronic engineering. I really like that stuff. I like electronics, but I also like playing bass. I think it'd be fun being a musician, but my mum doesn't like that idea. She wants to see me in a promising career, and music isn't very promising." John frowns.

"You're a bassist?" He nods his head. "Would you play something for me sometime?" John nods again, his lips curl into a smile, wiping away the frown that was there only seconds ago. "I've always wanted to play an instrument, but my dad won't let me take lessons. He thinks I have too much going on already."

"I could teach you," John offers without hesitation. His cheeks turn red, embarrassment starts to take over from his outburst. But I merely giggle softly in response. "If you'd like, that is." I nod my head, and I can see him relax a bit. I start to grin.

"But I still want to see you play."

Our conversation comes to an abrupt end once the front door open. "John, I'm home," a small voice calls. "Is Mum home?" I hear her rustle through something, making a lot of noise. John shuts his textbook.

"No, she isn't going to be home until four," John glances towards me. "It's my sister, Julie." He whispers. And when she steps into view, it's no secret they're related – they look nearly identical, although her features are more feminine. And as soon as she sees me, Julie freezes up, going silent, and claiming the recliner on the opposite side of the room. John sits up a little straight. "Julie, this is my friend, Luna." He introduces her to me.

"Hi, Julie." I greet, offering her a wave. Julie merely blinks before averting her gaze over to her brother.

"Is this the girl you have a crush on?" She asks. I can feel my heart skip a beat, taken off guard over her sudden question. But John – poor John – his whole face is bright red. And Julie starts giggling. "So she is?" She continues.

"Julie!" John scolds. It falls on deaf ear as she turns her attention to me, grinning like crazy.

"Do you like him? 'Cause he's a nerd," she speaks. "He does science fairs willingly and likes hiding in his room all weekend, reading. He doesn't hang out with his friends a lot. I think it's 'cause he doesn't have many." John tenses up more and more with each word that spills from her mouth.

"Julie, stop," he growls, his voice low and intimidating, although it's clear he's embarrassed. "I will tell Mum that you're interfering with our studies, and then you'll get in trouble." But she brushes his threat off. Julie hops up from the recliner, skipping back into the hallway and heading for the kitchen.

"Whatever you say, John!" She calls, giggling like crazy.

John huffs. "I hate little sisters." He grumbles. "She thinks she's funny, but she's not."

"I never got a chance to answer her question," he glances towards me, a bit of confusion evident on his face. "Because I do like you, John." I lie, but his face lights up, and a knot forms in my stomach – I feel awful. I hate that they manipulate me so easily, but it's my own fault for giving in.

"Like enough to go out with me Friday night?" He inquires in a hushed voice – I can barely hear him. I nod my head, forcing a smile.

"Like enough to go out with you Friday night." I confirm, and a big smile stretches across his face. I've never seen him look so happy.

But I'm for sure going to Hell.

<<<<~>>>>

In comparison, John's room is bare when thinking of Freddie's, Roger's, or even Brian's. His room is small but cozy. His bed sits against the wall opposite the door, a single poster of The Beatles adorns the wall to the right, and a white road sign spelling out his surname sits to the left, snug between two windows.

"It's not much," John comments, glancing around the small space. "But I like it." I follow him into his room; a desk sits inside the door and hidden behind that is his bass and amp. John heads straight for it. "You can take a seat if you'd like." And without a word, I climb onto his bed, sitting on the edge.

"Your room is really cozy," I smile. "I like it."

"Mum wasn't thrilled when I wanted black walls, but it's my favorite color," John grins, after setting everything up, he claims his desk chair. "Do I have any requests?" He raises an eyebrow, waiting for my response. I hum softly.

"What do you know?"

"The Beatles," he laughs. "But I know a couple Who songs, but I'm more familiar with The Beatles." I gasp, feigning offense.

"John Deacon, we're going to have to change that. The Who are my absolute favorite, and here you are, not familiar with them, and breaking my heart all at once!" He laughs in response, grinning like crazy.

"The Who is it," he grins. John starts the song – immediately, I recognize it as one of my favorites, 'The Kids Are Alright'. I gasp softly. "I'd sing for you, but I can't sing." He shares as he continues focusing on his playing.

"I don't mind," I admit. "But you're really good. I think you could become really famous, John, if you ever decided to join a band." He shrugs his shoulders, thinking it over briefly, before dismissing the idea.

"It'd be fun, but I think I'm going to choose something a little more practical. My mum isn't fond of me giving up my studies for music, and my dad didn't really like my interest in it, but he tolerated it." John explains. He fades out, he stops playing halfway through the song, I don't mind, though.

"Your parents don't like music?"

"Well, they do, but my mum thinks this is a silly hobby and would rather see me focus on school and go to university for something more promising," he takes a deep breath. "Since my dad died, she's been really strict with us – especially with school."

And I feel bad – I don't know what I'd do if my dad was strict with us.

<<<<~>>>>

Lilian calls us down for dinner shortly after five. I'm insanely nervous, to say the least. I don't want to make a bad first impression, and while John promises his mum is one of the nicest people ever, from the way he talks, she still intimidates me.

He bounces down each step, landing onto the hardwood flooring with a hop. He leads us to the kitchen where we find Julie hunched over her homework, and Ms Deacon setting her purse on the counter, simultaneously unloading her person. "Hi, Mum," John greets, heading straight for her. He gives her a hug, and after pulling her hand from her pocket, Ms Deacon gives the small of his back a gentle pat. "I hope you don't mind that Luna is deciding to eat dinner with us."

"Of course not," she glances towards me, throwing me a warm smile. "Hi, Darling, I'm Lilian, but if you're more comfortable with it, you can call me Ms Deacon – it's up to you." I nod with a smile of my own spreading across my lips. "But tell us a bit about yourself. I've heard about you several times from my son, but I want to know more." John's face burns with embarrassment – poor doll.

"Oh, well, uh, let's see," I stumble. "I live down the road, actually. I live with my dad and little brother, my brother is away for university, my oldest brother lives in Norwich with his wife and two kids, and my mum passed away shortly after my baby brother was born." Lilian offers me a frown, offering sympathy although she had lost her own husband. And I realize John was right – his mum is nothing to be afraid of. She carries a couple takeout containers to the table before returning to grab plates and silverware.

She passes plates out to each spot as we take our seats. Lilian starts to dish out food, and it smells absolutely delicious considering Dad doesn't order takeaway often – most times, it's a treat. "I'm sorry, Sweetie," she pouts after a moment. "I understand how hard it can be growing up without a parent, and I can't imagine the pain you've felt." I notice John bow his head. I feel bad for unintentionally provoking the conversation – all I want to do is hug him and apologize for it.

"But I have two little nephews," I smile, deciding to change the topic. "I love them, they're four and two. I haven't seen them in a while, though." Lilian's frown turns upward to a smile. I can see John relax, throwing me a look, silently thanking me for speaking of something other than deceased parents.

"Sounds like family is important to you." Lilian comments with a raise of her eyebrow. I nod my head.

"Definitely."

Lilian glances towards her son. "I like her, John." And my heart swells with happiness – I'm thrilled that I was worrying and stressing myself out over nothing.

"Hey, Mum," John speaks, lifting his head to gaze at her. Lilian glances back and waits for him to proceed. "Is it alright if Luna and I do something together Friday night?" She thinks it over briefly before opening her mouth to question.

"What will you two be doing?" John shrugs his shoulders. "I'd like to know before giving an answer, alright?" John nods his head, pushing his dinner around with his fork rather than eating it. But Lilian doesn't mention it.

"Freddie, Brian, and Roger have a football game," I speak up. "It's at four o'clock. If you want, we could go to that, and then my dad could drive us to the diner to get something to eat." And instead of answering, John stares, waiting for Lilian's response.

"I don't see a problem with that."

And John's face lights up, excited over the opportunity to hang out with me – effectively warming my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd love to hear from you all, i'd love to hear your thoughts, absolutely anything going through your mind :)

**Author's Note:**

> i'd really appreciate hearing what you guys think ♥️


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